


Oblivion

by IamShadow21



Series: Teapot 'verse [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cookie Fic, Crack, Fake Chapter, Humor, Joke Chapter, M/M, Murder, Poisoning, Short, Teapot 'verse, Teapot 'verse Cookie Fic, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-02
Updated: 2008-06-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamShadow21/pseuds/IamShadow21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When good writers go bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [star54kar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/star54kar/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Teapot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113535) by [IamShadow21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamShadow21/pseuds/IamShadow21), [kath_ballantyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kath_ballantyne/pseuds/kath_ballantyne). 



> For star54kar, the most squishable Slytherin I know.
> 
> Originally written as a joke chapter, designed to relieve my stress at writing the most maudalin of chapters surrounding Harry's breakdown ([45\. Renascence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1113535/chapters/2246477)), and to catch out those of my readers who didn't read the header. Totally inspired by a similar fake-out copperbadge pulled whilst writing [Cartographer's Craft](http://archiveofourown.org/works/979182), one of the best fics in this fandom. If you haven't read it, you should! It's over here on AO3, now, along with all the rest of copperbadge's wonderful Potter fiction.

It is like lancing a wound. Molly Weasley stands there and watches as the poison spills out of me in a rush, until nothing is flowing from me but tears, and then it isn’t her arms around me, but Ron’s, and it is Ron who is pressing his lips to my hair, Ron who is guiding me to sit on the edge of our bed, and I bury my face into his neck and hold on tight as I can.

I cry myself raw and ragged. I don’t know what in particular I am crying _about_ , even; just that I hurt, and that things have gone terribly wrong, and that even though it is horrible, a part of me knows I need this.

I lose track of time. I hear Molly come in, and the sound of something being set on the bedside table.

“Is that..?” I vaguely hear Ron ask. There is an urgency, almost an impatience, in his voice.

“Yes,” is the reply. 

“How long?”

“A minute or two. No more.”

“Thank Merlin,” Ron mutters, with evident relief.

In the end, I am left, trembling and weak, and quite disgustingly damp and slimy. My breath is still coming in strange, hitching spasms, and my eyes are burning.

“I think I dribbled on you,” I mumble. I’m pretty sure there’s mucus smeared across my face, and Ron’s neck, too, but I’d rather not admit it. 

Ron gives an empty little laugh, and murmurs that it doesn’t matter. 

“Here.”

A still-warm cup of tea is there. Ron holds my fingers tight around it until he’s sure I’m not going to drop it, and I sip numbly. It’s not hot, but it’s still drinkable. 

I don’t realise just how dizzy I am until I absently watch the cup fall from my fingers and shatter into fragments on the floor. Odd little puffs of purple steam rise up from the tea splatters, and I giggle a little hysterically at the sight.

“Purple,” I try to mumble, and Ron snorts.

Then the boards are rising up to hit me in the face all of a sudden. It’s all a bit of a shock, but I don’t feel any pain, just amusement, and curiosity at why I don’t seem to be able to breathe.

The world turns to white, then grey, then Black – Sirius Black – steps out of the mist and enfolds me in a hug.

***

I wipe at my neck, in disgust, with a handkerchief, as Mum Transfigures Harry into something easily hideable.

“He slobbered all over me,” I complain.

“Well, that can happen with Oblivion,” Mum says, matter-of-factly, picking up her new doormat. There is a cartoonish cockerel, a hen and two fluffy yellow chicks on it.

“He slobbered on me _before_ he drank it,” I clarify. “Ugh... it’s all over my shirt.”

“You didn’t touch that broken cup, did you?” Mum asks, sharply, ignoring me as I strip off my soiled clothing.

“No,” I mutter. I liked that shirt, too. It’s ruined now. It will forever be, in my mind, the shirt Harry wiped his nose on, before carking it on my bedroom floor. With regret, I _Incendio_ it, leaving a scorch mark on the counterpane. Mum Banishes the broken mug, and carefully Scourgifies the tea from the floor.

“It’s more or less gone, but don’t walk around in here without shoes for a few weeks, or you’ll be coming face to face with Fred, and I’ll have a new hearth rug.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Mum.”

“Now come downstairs. I’ve made you some lunch.”

I follow Mum eagerly, wondering if there’ll be sausages.


End file.
